The Dead Woman
by Dagron
Summary: After years not understanding, Ayumi finally puts together the pieces of the puzzle allowing her to understand what happened between Masumi Sera and that stranger in the train... Allowing to understand everything, to her great sorrow. (Translation. Spoilers for Belltree Express case.)
1. A woman like an angel

**Author's note** : massive SPOILERS for files 815+, tomes 77-78, aka the Belltree Express (or Black Mystery Train) case.  
Translated from french, original is on my profile under "La Femme Morte."

* * *

The Dead Woman.

* * *

Part One: **A woman like an angel...**

* * *

I remember... I understand now. It's strange how shock can throw a fresh light on memories from over five years ago.

I close my eyes to focus on my recollections, taking refuge in my memories to ignore the tears running down my face and their main cause.

We were all so excited to go on that train, the mystery train named "Belltree Express." It was to be expected from a gang of primary school kids keen on police investigations. We had all dressed up: Conan had on his distinctive jacket, shirt and bowtie, Mitsuhiko and I both had on our Sunday best, and Genta had even changed his style to put on a brand new jean overall, similar to the ones we associated with train conductors in cartoons. Even professor Agasa had found a suitable hat for the occasion and Ai wasn't to be forgotten, not allowing her cold to stop her from accompanying us.

Maybe she shouldn't have.

Evidently, as was always the case during a Detective Boys expedition, an incident took place. We only understood too late that it was nothing to do with the train's annual quiz, that it was for real. Going against the custom, once the murder was revealed Conan asked us to take refuge in our cabin. For our safety he told us, now I wonder if there wasn't more to it than that...

Now that I think back, there were plenty of signs that something was wrong; not only Conan's behaviour, but also Ai's. The scared glances towards the intimidating stranger, the manner in which she would grab onto Conan and Ran's clothing as they walked down the corridors of the infamous train, her mute behaviour in front of Ran's friend, Masumi Sera if I recall correctly. She had seemed rather distracted when the possibility of encountering the mysterious woman who had saved us from the fire the week prior was mentioned... And then...

Unconsciously, I exit my reminiscence to look at the one I had just thought of. My hands shake as I see her, the one who hadn't ignored the signs five years ago. The one who, even though she had tried so hard, hadn't been able to stop the tragedy then... Nor today's. My legs buckle, the weight of these revelations pulling me down to the height I had then...

I, Ayumi Yoshida, hadn't had a clue that the fated moment where my best friend had left us, pretending to head to the bathroom to take her cold medicine, was to be the very last time I would see her, as she was then at least...

Ran had worried, having lost sight of her before she could accompany her. She had even gone to check the nearest toilets to find her when Ai hadn't reappeared several minutes later. When she received a message from the mixed-race girl telling her not to worry, Mitsuhiko, Genta and I had simply thought, innocent as we were, that she'd gone to join Conan to follow the resolution of the murder mystery that had robbed us of any opportunity to explore the train freely. Not that I think back, I understand why that message had worried Ran so. It was nearly like she knew Ai better than we did.

The fire alert pushing us to the front of the train took us all by surprise. Having only just recently escaped from a fire, Mitsuhiko, Genta and I exchanged worried looks. The boys looked afraid. Me? I had passed out during that incident, I could only recall one thing...

An intense heat, heavy and dirty air that a breeze came to clear... My exhausted limbs had been unable to move, but that wasn't a problem. Squinting my eyes open, I had realised I was being carried, gently but surely towards the sweet fresh outdoors. A woman like an angel, whose face seemed familiar and whose eyes were filled with gentle kindness when she heard my question.

"Ai?"

"She must be evacuating too," answered the professor, seeming worried but striving to reassure us. "If she isn't already at the front of the train."

"Let's go check..." Ran said, not waiting to join the crowd in the corridors. Her voice melded into the cacophony of the other scared and confused passengers. "We can also ask the conductors...!"

We followed on her heels with the Professor and Sonoko, eyes scanning through the crowd and holding each other's hands to not lose one another. We did try to ask miss Sera when she ran passed us in the wrong direction, but...

She was already a train ahead of us.

* * *

Masumi Sera awoke to the sounds of panic in the corridor, a burning pain in her chest and in her head. She was lying down, alone, in her cabin in the fifth car. She didn't recall returning to it... It took her a moment to sit up, to fight her dizziness, and recall what happened. She had been investigating with the Sleeping Kogoro and little Conan, and had left the eighth car to meet up with the other kids and show them her videos of the suspects... And, maybe, to have a short chat with little "Haibara." That was when she...

"... Big brother Shuu?" Rubbing her chest, and glancing inside her t-shirt, she quickly confirmed her suspicions. He'd used an electric taser to knock her out.

There had to be something more going on. She knew her big brother was an FBI agent with a formidable intelligence, capable of anything to reach his target, but... Shuuichi, using a taser? To get rid of her? Wasn't he dead? Didn't she cry, nights on the trot, once the shock from the news had sunk in? She remembered the anger that had pushed her to leave the States, to head to Beika, the Tokyo suburb from which her eldest brother had sent her his last missive... The anger she had directed towards the young woman she had known five years prior, who was the reason her brother's life had taken such a turn.

Frustrated at having been caught out so, whether the scarred man was her sibling or not, she took a moment to think. If she was that woman and things were heading south, where would she hide? If she were one of the many enemies hunting her, where would she go?

"I repeat, a fire alert has been declared in car 8, passengers from cars 6 and 7 are required to evacuate to the front of the train."

It clicked, and she wasted no time. Rushing down the corridor, she only glanced at the Detective Boys long enough to confirm that their number had been reduced to three. She didn't even hear their questions.

* * *

I recall that my stomach had tied itself in knots when we caught up with Ran, seeing the expression on her face.

"What do you mean, you've lost Conan? And you're certain you've not seen Ai?"

"What do you want?" Her father, Kogoro Mouri seems confused, annoyed and worried all at the same time. "I was sure the brat was following me when we left car 8, as for the girl, wasn't she with you?"

Shoved around by the crowd pressing against him and pushing us towards the front of the train, the great detective of the sleepy reputation made an exasperated gesture towards the panicked travellers.  
"They're probably just lost amongst this lot. They won't be far, I'm sure."

"Don't worry Ran, your dad must be right. Let's go check the front of the train..." Sonoko, Ran's friend from a rich family tried to be reassuring. It was thanks to her we'd got tickets for this trip. If she had known...

"Okay..." Ran replied after a short pause. The high schooler took a step back. "All of you, go check up front. I'll just make sure they haven't got trapped behind."

And before her father or friend could stop her, she had slipped in between the panicked passengers to head towards the sixth car. The boys and eye shared a quick look before checking that the adults had lost sight of us, a skill we'd learnt from Conan, before following her. It was easy for us to weave through the legs of all these strangers. It would be harder for Sonoko, Mister Mouri and Professor Agasa to see which direction we had left in once they finished their short debate. They would probably presume us to be heading to check the front of the train but...

If ever Ai and Conan were stuck in the car on fire? On our honour as Detective Boys, we weren't going to leave them there!

If only it had just been a fire...

* * *

A corridor filling with more and more smoke greeted Masumi as she dodged the very last of the evacuees: a conductor looking stressed who'd just done the final call for evacuation. He knocked repeatedly on the cabin doors as he passed, and had made a valiant effort to redirect her to the front of the train but... It was obvious that even the great Suzuki Corporation didn't pay him enough to block the road of a Jeet Kune Do expert.

Once satisfied that she was clear to find the root of the fire, the high school girl quickened her pace. Her shoe knocked against an object that went flying, clunking into the door between cars seven and eight with a metallic sound. She recognised her smartphone that she'd lost in her encounter with the scarred man but paid it little heed. It collided with her feet a couple more times as she leapt into the last car, the smoke making it hard to spot, before it vanished. All thoughts about the murder case and the videos on her device evaporated the moment she turned down into the car's corridor, seeing that the latter was much more occupied than the one she'd just left.

She could only glimpse vague silhouettes at first, but what she couldn't distinguish with her sight, she could by ear...

"Step away from her..." It was a voice she recognised all too well. That voice had occasionally given her guidance throughout her childhood, the strength and firmness in it had always served as her aspiration... It was her brother's voice.

"Who? Vermouth?" A voice she didn't know: male, young, smart... "No... You."

Masumi could make out a third silhouette, its edges blurry but vaguely more feminine than that of the two men. She could hear the latter struggling, the stranger seeming to hold her with a hand behind their back.

"Moroboshi... Dai?"

Impossible to mistake it, that was the voice of the girl she'd met the last time she'd been to the land of the rising sun, when Shuichi had introduced her to his new girlfriend. A touch more mature, despite the circumstances, she seemed to have kept the calm and dry tone that had always riled Masumi up. The confusion in her voice was a suitable reflection of that the young detective felt having been certain to have seen her in a shrunken form just an hour prior.

Normally she would let anger dictate her actions without considering a proper strategy. Shuu had always told her off for this. That was why she learnt Jeet Kune Do: to compensate for the issues her hot temper could cause... But she was unsure how her martial arts could help in this situation. None of the three seemed to have noticed her, but she couldn't come closer without them noticing her presence.

"I said let her go!" Her brother's authoritarian voice... She could sense the frustration in it. He made no effort to answer the queries of the stranger or Shiho Miyano.

"Sherry is coming with me, Rye." The mysterious man answers. Her eyes adjusting to the smoke, Masumi noticed the glaring lack of flames, and the cold sharp shape of a revolver held against the woman's head. Drat...

* * *

I remember that we were running, Genta, Mitushiko and I... We'd gotten passed most of the crowd and could see Ran at the end of the corridor. She was haphazardly checking cabins, as well as the toilets as she passed, but we could sense her fear. We shared it. The main advantage of having been stuck in a burning cabin the week prior was that we knew the smell of a fire... The smoke we could smell didn't smell right.

* * *

If she were to try and recall the scene later, Masumi Sera would find it difficult. It all went down so quick... It was strange, she thought, to see the man, that later was confirmed to be her brother, go to such lengths to try and save a hostage... and fail.

Shuuichi Akai always had a plan. He was always prepared. He always used his formidable intellect to analyse all his enemies' moves and counter them.

In her heart she could sense that that had been the case, that something must have occurred to turn all his preparations to rubble, something unforeseen.

Shiho and the stranger were stepping back towards the back of the train, the small car that held supplies. That's when Masumi slowly had began her approach, before noticing, distractedly, that the man she thought might be her brother was wearing a hat very similar to hers.

The distraction was deadly. The stranger, a man whose brown hair and dark skin she glimpsed, spotted her. He didn't even warn her with any cry before shooting bullets at her.

Shuichi took the opportunity to rush at the gunman, earning him some shots in his direction. She couldn't tell if any had hit him, but she could feel shivers running down her spine. Masumi had blood running down from a sudden graze along her cheek.

It wasn't as though she would let a small scare freeze her to the spot when there was action to be had... As Shuichi wrestled the armed man, she leapt forward to force him to release his hostage... A hostage who seemed more afraid at the sight of her than the recently fired Beretta. Masumi shoved her with some force towards the half open door of a cabin before diving to the ground: the man was firing again, and it sounded like he was emptying his clip.

Half a dozen bullets soared across the carriage in a wide arc, from the door to cabin B through the roof to the windows in the corridor. The window pane, following the impact of two bullets, broke into pieces, various shapes of glass smashing to the floor or flying out into the train's slipstream. Masumi quickly got on her feet to head into the cabin and attempt to close the door, but not without glancing back at the two men in the corridor who were no longer fighting over a gun, but a grenade. The firearm had fallen to the ground.

She watched in horror as they both pressed each other up against the empty frame of the broken window. It didn't take much to see them fall. A horrified expression, a sad look in her direction, a hat fluttering down to the car's carpet, last memento of the person rescuing the chemist behind Masumi who was having trouble breathing.

"Damn it, Bourbon!" A troubling cough made Masumi whip her head around... "Didn't they teach us to aim better than this?"

* * *

Yukiko Kudo, during this time, held her hands up towards the ceiling with the barrel of a revolver less than five centimetres from her nose. The situation wasn't completely unexpected. After all, her opponent was none other than her previous colleague and friend, Sharon Vineyard, and she had volunteered to distract her. However, that was on condition her son and their new ally could save little Ai from herself.

Yukiko was beginning to feel nervous.

She still hadn't received a call from Shinichi to confirm the success of their plan. For once that no news was bad news... Especially when Sharon was telling her in a delighted tone that her accomplice had found the girl in the eighth carriage.

A few minutes of silence went by, the near diabolical grin of the American really helping her to play the role of distraught woman whose plans had been thwarted. And still no call from Shinichi... Didn't he promise to inform her with predetermined phrases whether their plan was a success or not?

That said, Sharon's smile was not without wobbles now... There was a degree of impatience in the movement of her eyebrows and the tightness of her jaw. She too was awaiting a signal.

After a few more minutes, her enemy finally sighed before pointing the antenna of her mobile phone towards Yukiko.

"Sorry, Yukiko dearest, but it seems you are going to miss the climax..."

She couldn't help the high-pitched cry she let out as Sharon pointed the odourful gas at her airways. She couldn't avoid inhaling the gas, and she quickly went under its knockout effects.

She barely glimpsed young Sharon putting back on the scarred man mask, before falling into a deep slumber, prone against the couch of her cabin...

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	2. Her name no longer matters

Part Two: **Her name no longer matters.**

* * *

I watch the tears roll down her face, as she strokes the one of the man she loved. His eyes are half-open, red stains his shirt from a hole in his chest. He is pale.

I sense the drops of water caressing my cheeks even more strongly for the memories the scene conjures.

Five years ago, in the eighth and last carriage of the Belltree Express, after forcing Ran to let us follow her by covering our mouth and noses with wet tissues, I had found myself at the front of our little group. The two boys were delayed in the previous carriage's toilets (they found it hard not to dissolve the paper towels they found there,) and Ran had slowed down to pick up a white-shelled mobile phone... Myself I had found a hat on the floor that seemed familiar. The window in the corridor was broken such that most of the smoke was being let out, so I chose to put my tissue away the better to pick up the hat. It had fallen next to a half-open door, from which I could hear two feminine voices...

"Stop moving!" Said one. "I'm trying to bandage you up to stem the blood flow."

"Wha..." A dry cough interrupted the start of the sentence. The voice that followed seemed to grow weaker. This person was having trouble breathing. It took me a moment to recognise the voice that had seemed so full of conviction the week prior. "What are you doing here, anyway? How... did you know?"

"Idiot..." The first voice replied as I slowly approached the opening. "Weren't you the one who showed me that little mouse you rescued from your lab? You didn't stop at rodents I see..."

"I..."

"Hush, don't speak... Your... Your wound..."

What I saw then will stay with me always, a sight that comes to wake me up regularly at night in the form of a nightmare... I'm certain it'll continue doing so for a long time.

There was the new high-school student from Ran's class, the tomboy. She was kneeling, cradling the head of the woman who I had only first met the week before, and who I had been so keen to thank... But not like this.

Masumi Sera had tears in her eyes, as she stroked the face of the stranger, after placing her finger against her lips to keep her quiet. Her auburn coloured hair that I had admired in the light of the fire gave her an angel's halo, as a dark damp circle stained the white fabric Sera was trying to keep tight around her chest with her spare hand. Our angelic saviour was dying. I couldn't stop my hiccups from such a shock.

Noticing my presence, she stiffened, her eyes growing wide and her face blanching even more. Sera had to struggle to keep the improvised bandage in place... The injured woman was taking over by a fit of coughing as she tried to ask a simple question...

"... Why?"

"Sera!" Ran had arrived. I timidly stepped forward to let her in and at her classmate's side. "What happened?"

Turning towards me, Ran took on the authoritarian tone only someone used to such situations would know to use.  
"Ayumi, you and the boys, go fetch my father. Ask the conductors to send a first aider to car eight immediately, and to stop the train at the next stop." She pulled out her mobile phone, rapidly dialling a number before bringing it to her air. "I'm going to call an ambulance... Hang in there."

I left the room on tottery feet without being able to turn my gaze away and stopped when I heard the boys arrive in the corridor. With a shaky voice I passed on Ran's instructions without joining them. They must have understood at the sight of my distress and the seriousness of the instructions and didn't argue. They sprinted off to accomplish their mission. Me? Hesitant, I took a deep breath to build up my courage and stepped closer once more. I didn't want to leave the scene without thanking this stranger. Something told me this would be my last chance.

Under the blank gaze of today's corpse, sat on his seat with a gun in his hand and a torn shirt, I helped Ran and miss Sera to bandage the injured woman as best I could. The scraps of shirt that Sera had requisitioned weren't ideal, but after pulling and stretching in accordance to the first aiders on the phone, we managed to stop the bloodstain from growing more... Not without causing our patient much discomfort.

All that was left to do was to wait for the rescue team. The first aiders on the phone had hung up, promising to get their time to reach the train at the closest possible stop and doing their best to contact the train's owner. We just had to grit our teeth waiting for Mitsuhiko and Genta to accomplish their task. The three of us were sat around the woman lying down, watch her struggle with every breath.

Now was my chance.

"Miss?" I started. "I just wanted to say... I... We... We all wanted to thank you...For... For saving us from the fire last week. The boys, Ai and I..."

I saw her turn her face towards me, her gaze seeming startled at first before softening, tears in the corners of her eyes. Despite our administrations, she really didn't seem to be getting better, but she managed to give me a beautiful smile.

"No... Young Ayumi, I'm the one who must thank you..." Her voice was shaky as she answered. "You, Ran, and Masumi too..."

She looked up to include them. Ran held her hand as Sera cradled her head, they too were having trouble keeping their eyes dry.

"I was sure... I would die alone." She said in a sad voice. She tightened her grip around Ran's fingers as she told her to stop saying such nonsense. "Thank you..."

And, closing her eyes to let her tears fall, the woman whose name I still didn't know continued in a whisper we could barely hear...

"Forgive me... Ran... Mother... Big sister..."

Her last words, I'm certain I was the only one to hear as she spoke them the softest, but I didn't understand them then...

"I'm sorry... Kudo..."

The aftermath? I don't remember too well... I remember breaking into tears. When finally, the boys, a conductor and the detective Mouri arrived with a doctor, Ran was already holding me in her arms. I vaguely think Conan also arrived later, seemingly panicked, then stunned. Beyond that? Nothing, if for a small exchange between Ran and Sera.

"Did you know her? What was her name?"

"... We were classmates, in the States, over five years ago. I'm afraid her name no longer matters, sadly..."

A woman without a name, dead with no reason, on the train of the Belltree Express.

* * *

Vermouth stood at the door to one of the abandoned cabins in carriage seven listening avidly to the voices of the people passing by. The smoke grenades had been discovered, a conductor making sure to open the corridor's windows to let the smoke out as another moved them to a location to stop the train filling with any more. The grenades were going to be active still another good five minutes.

No sign of Bourbon... And he wasn't answering his phone. This was bad. However, he seemed to have accomplished his mission: she could hear them speak of another victim, a woman with light coloured hair. It was promising, but so long as she couldn't see the body, she couldn't be sure. She still had the option of blowing up the back of the train, but she refused to do it so long as certain people weren't at the front.

She'd just seen young Conan, her Silver Bullet, running the wrong way. With a sigh, she adjusted her mask before leaving the cabin to follow him. She didn't get the chance.

"Oh, but that style of makeup is familiar." She felt the presence of a metallic barrel against her lower back. "Why don't we discuss it?"

Sensing that she was being directed back into the cabin she had just left, she took the opportunity to give the interloper a murderous glare. She gingerly lifted her hands as a sign of submissiveness while memorising the young man's appearance as he shut the door behind them.

He was clearly young, in jeans with a black t-shirt, and a cap hiding the top of his face. At the back she could spy some spiky locks of wildly black hair. In his hand, he held a rather strange handgun: light coloured metal, customised butt, and a wide canon. The mocking smirk he showed her seemed oddly familiar... Where had she seen such a grin before?

"To have such a convincing mask, you must have learnt from the best, unless it was one of their students that helped you with it? A disguise on par with those of the great magician Touichi Kuroba, I must say."

Ah. Yes, that was it. This young man had the same smirk as Touichi Kuroba. Yet she was certain the latter had died many years ago now. Vermouth wasn't the only one to receive a second youth then?

Seeing that she was determined to remain quiet, the young man made his weapon vanish with a flourish of his hand, as any accomplished prestidigitator would. He no longer smiled as he observed her. After a short silence, he used his voice again.

"I had thought something strange was going on with this train. The fake fire, the strange atmosphere among the passengers..." He pulled an object from his pocket that she recognised with an ugly frown. "These bombs."

It was one of the bombs Vodka had hidden on the train ahead of time, following Gin's predictable instructions. He had put one next to each wheel on every carriage, and she had moved a great number of them to the storeroom at the back of the train. She scowled, trying to understand what the young man was after.

"I don't usual rely solely on my gut feelings but... Something tells me that you are very familiar with these bombs... And I'm going to make sure they don't explode."

That's all she needed to know. In a swift motion Vermouth drew her revolver to point it at the young stranger, only for him to overtake her. A pink coloured smoke bomb hid him from sight instantly. It didn't take Vermouth long to realise the nature of the gas surrounding her, her grip weakening as her eyelids became heavy. She tired to shoot, once, twice, but her bullets went nowhere. She passed out glimpsing the silhouette of a man all dressed in white, his top hat and monocle distinctive identifiers.

Once the gas dissipated and he was sure she couldn't see or hear him, he removed his gas mask and activated his mobile phone. Using a different voice, he introduced himself as the train's owner when they answered his call, before barking out some orders.

The train would stop at the very next station and be immediately evacuated. He would call a security team to meet them there.

Kaitou Kid did not know but he had found himself a new deadly foe with a long memory and a large reach...

Sherry was dead. Kid would replace her at the top of the Black Organisation's hit list.

* * *

It takes me a couple of minutes of broken sobbing before I can get myself to calm down. Tears are still streaming down my cheeks, but I can stand, I can focus on what needs to be done.

Ran, she seems frozen. I step closer. I notice that she's still staring at Shinichi with glassy eyes, traces of her spent tears glistening down her face. She's run out of tears to cry such is her sorrow...

It is obvious to me the identity of the person lying at our feet, more obvious than it has ever been...

Here lies Shinichi Kudo, high school detective with an impeccable record, before he vanished from the crime solving scene. Here lies the man who, in the back pocket of his trousers has a pair of distinctive spectacles that cause me to shed a fresh lot of warm sobs.

Here lies Conan Edogawa... The same one who had entered the empty gallery with the appearance of a boy of twelve years, to end up dead in the guise of a twenty-two year old man.

I don't get the how, nor the why. My confusion is focused on the perpetrator of his death, the culprit of a crime with plenty of evidence, but whose motive is incomprehensible. I glance towards the wall, the corpse of the other person who had entered the building wearing a face that wasn't their own... A person that I had seen following Conan in and hadn't puzzled over much... Until I heard the gunshot, funeral ball announcing his end.

An American, I think, dissociating. An American with a famous face, even though she hadn't feature in many films lately. She wasn't as beautiful here as on the silver screen: an ugly gash of a wound adorns her temple, her long chestnut hair is stained with black blood. The latter is also dramatical splattered across the wall behind her, over a painting, upon the latex mask at her feet. She still holds onto the weapon of her crime, a Beretta, automatic revolver often smuggled illegally into Japon from Russia.

Her costume, that of a police officer charged with watching over one of the venues suspected as the location of Kids next heist that night, it reminds me of my duties as schoolgirl with the reputation of a sleuth. I pull out my mobile phone from my DB emblazoned blazer to call the authorities.

While inspector Megure and detective Takagi quiz us about our how we came to be in the area, how we'd known something had happened and our theories about their motives, I had but one thought in my head... It was a fluke of chance that I had been with Ran in the café opposite, partly to see if I could catch Kid scouting out the location anonymously, partly to ask Ran for some relationship advice that was now of no use to me, and doubly mortifying. If only...

But what could I have done? What had happened in these four walls as I sipped away, none the wiser, at my iced coffee?

* * *

 _To be concluded..._


	3. Farewell, Silver Bullet

Part Three: **Farewell, Silver Bullet.**

* * *

The investigation completed by the Tokyo Police First Division found the body of the original police man in a skip nearby, alongside evidence that showed the security cameras had been disabled ahead of time. There was a big gap between when the fake police officer entered, and the first gunshot. The American and Edogawa, no, Kudo, must have exchanged more than bullets. Unfortunately for Takagi, Megure, Ran and Ayumi, what would forever remain a mystery... But not for Kaito Kuroba, he had the dubious honour of being a live witness.

No, Touichi Kuroba's son hadn't been on the premises as the tragedy unfolded. If he had been, he would have done anything to prevent it. Instead he was forced, during the most fastidious class of his Mathematics Degree, to passively listen to the sounds coming through his earpiece. He found it difficult to keep his composure in front of his classmates. Impossible to hear the lecturer's complicated tirade when the shock was threatening to make him fall off his seat.

Ayumi wasn't wrong in her deduction that the Haido Art Gallery, officially shut for renovations, would be the Kid's most likely target from the hint on his calling card. Conan Edogawa had trained her well. Unfortunately for her, Kaito had already paid it his preliminary visit, the guise of a renovator much harder to use on a rest day. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen to leave some hidden microphones to make sure that neither Inspector Nakamori, Saguru Hakuba nor the two criminal organisations that had picked Kaitou Kid as a target were preparing any nasty surprises for that evening.

It was a simple click that alerted him that the microphones were picking up something... Someone must have passed near one, activating it. He thought for a moment it might have been a rat or some other creature... And then he heard a voice...

"Here will suffice..." It was a voice he recognised, that of a tenacious adversary who, for a few years now, had become a rather improbable ally. Conan Edogawa...?

Kaito took a moment to check where he'd placed the activated microphone: near the bathroom. His confusion grew manifold when he heard the sounds that followed. Some worrying puffing followed by a great cry cut short.

"Ah... I'd forgotten how bloody much that hurt..." Some muttering, it was the same voice but... Older. Kaito spent a few more minutes listening with sweat beading on his forehead. He had always wondered if the days when Edogawa was constantly setting his plans awry would return, but now he wondered if Edogawa was truly the name of the opponent he needed to be wary of.

Five minutes later Kaito heard another person in the building. The latter quickly found the presumed Edogawa. What Kaito wouldn't have given to have a visual, or even the luxury of being able to skip his class. Unfortunately, his lecturer was a dinosaur for whom attendance outweighed any real ability his students might have, and besides, his campus was far too distant for him to get there with any timeliness. He recognised the voice, that of a police officer under Nakamori whose identity he'd borrowed on several occasions. He had a distinctive voice, with verbal tics easy to imitate. Clearly Kaito wasn't alone in considering him a reliable guise.

"Off with the mask, Vermouth. I'm not fooled by your games."

The voice that replied then sent shivers down Kaito's spine. It was nothing like the impersonated officer's voice, and though he didn't recognise the stranger's voice itself, he didn't know of many people with enough talent to change their voice that much who would don a mask...

The image of someone disguised as a man with a scarred face came to mind. A mysterious death, Conan Edogawa completely defeated, and a train covered in bombs...

"I see that you are not in the mood to play, Shinichi Kudo..." A young woman's voice, faint hints of an American accent, hidden before, as she calls the other by the name Kaito had once associated with young Edogawa before forgetting it... But of course, it made sense. "You had some of that miracle potion left?"

Kudo's silence said more than it needed to.

"What, still mad about Sherry's death?"

"And you? Haibara wasn't enough?" Riposted the detective that no one had seen in five years. His voice managed to blend anger and apathy. Kaito had the impression he was at the end of his tether. He pondered the names mentioned. "You feel the need to hunt down a mere thief who has nothing to do with your organisation, your tangled secrets nor my fight with you... Simply because he crossed your path once?"

"Hmpf..."

"And yet when I'm the one who has uncovered more than any other, and I'm the one who blocks your path a good hundred times now, for some reason I don't understand, you do all you can to keep me alive. Why is that, Vermouth? Is it because I'm my mother's son? Or is it..."

"Keep your mother out of this, brat. There are things even I can't shield her from..." Anger, Kudo seemed to have hit the mark. Kaito felt as though he was a captive spectator to an act he hadn't been invited to. He was learning more about Edogawa born Kudo than he had in five years of showdowns.

"So why insult me by ignoring me as your opponent? After robbing me of the chance of the normal life I yearned for? I've had enough of this charade. I'm tired of hunting you and putting others at risk, without facing any of the consequences myself."

"So why continue? Accept your second life, young man. Give up your impossible quest." The instantly recognisable click of a revolver's security being removed. Kaito's blood froze. Panicked, he sent out within seconds an encrypted message to Inspector Nakamori, before realising it was futile. His favourite policeman would never arrive in time. "Kaitou Kid will die tonight, and you can't stop it."

A dozen curses filled Kaito's thoughts. If only he'd installed that trap, the one to set off the fire alarms and sprinklers as he'd originally considered, he could have instantly intervened to defuse the situation from a distance... And that Vermouth... It was thanks to her that his best rival Hakuba had ended up in hospital for two months, that his mother had received death threats, and that Aoko, his girlfriend, had nearly died at Kid's last outing?

"Why continue...?" Kudo laughed. It was a sad, melancholy laugh, with the usual hint of mockery. "Why try to save a life? Is a reason truly necessary? No, if I am here, it is truly without reason. If I invited you here, Vermouth, it was to end this. I want to make you an offer..."

The one named Vermouth stayed quiet. Intrigued, Kaito leaned forward on his desk to listen more assiduously.

"Leave Kid alone. Cease your hunt for the thief. Choose me as your target in his place..." Shinichi Kudo's declaration took a few moments to earn a response.

"You... You realise what it is you are saying? I am armed, you are here without protection, without any backup... What you are asking for is tantamount to suicide!"

The sound of sneakers scuffing the floor, was Kudo pretending to play with a ball at such a time?

"I promised, once, a young girl that I would protect her. I promised this as I was saving her from herself, asking her not to flee her destiny, to live. I failed..." At this, Shinichi Kudo's words took on a deep bitterness. "I thought I could be Superman, but in the end, I was only and absurd parody of Clark Kent. I don't want to keep my Lois waiting, hoping for an impossible homecoming. I admit defeat. Might as well make it useful."

"Why save a life?" A sardonic chuckle left the American's lips, not without a hint of sadness. "And why take it? Very well, Kudo, I will grant you your wish. Kaitou Kid will live to see another day, and I will make sure I won't pursue him any longer... Be it actively or passively."

A few seconds of silence. The blast of a bullet leaving a canon, once, twice. A cough, and then nothing. It took a jab to his ribs from his neighbour for Kaito to realise he was crying. Wiping at his tears with a wince, he glared at his classmate before returning his focus to the audio transmission.

" _Farewell, Silver Bullet._ " Kaito listened closely, hoping against all hope that this was all a distasteful farce, a trap hoping to catch this Vermouth unawares. It took him a moment to realise she was speaking in English now. What did she say? Farewell, silver bullet? Touichi Kuroba's son bit his lip as he thought how Saguru Hakuba wouldn't have had to think to decipher what the American was saying.

" _Forgive me, Yukiko, for stealing away your only son... Sorry, Angel... For leaving you his corpse._ "  
Kaito translated in his head as she spoke... Forgive me, Yukiko, for stealing away your only son... Sorry, Angel... For leaving you his corpse? What a morbid speech...!

"But your death won't have been in vain, Silver Bullet." The stranger continued in Japanese, obviously talking to the man she'd just killed. She still used that strange nickname. "Hell Angel's heritage now has but one vessel remaining... And that? Not for much longer..."

He had a bad feeling. With a flick of his thumb, he turned up the volume on his earpiece, so he could hear every detail, risking the ire of his instructor.

"I prepared a silver bullet for this very occasion... Just for me." Shocked to hear such words from a professional killer, Kaito had to bite his tongue to not cry out. "We might not have been able to change the Organisation's path, but..."

The sound of a pistol clip being changed.

" _At least we won't be allowing the devil to turn back time_."

Another gunshot. Silence... Kaito didn't expect to hear any more sounds. Filled with a blind fury, he stood, threw his bag over his shoulder and left the class. His lecturer called out his name, to no avail.

"Another demon seeking eternal life? Damn it dad, do we attract them somehow?!"

Afterwards, once he found the files recording the criminal investigation after he snuck into the Police Headquarters, he was quick to verify three facts. First, yes, it was truly Shinichi Kudo who'd so thrown himself to the wolves with a death wish. Second, the presumed Vermouth and well and truly killed herself with a silver bullet. The diagnostics time were pulling their hair out trying to figure that one out. Third fact? It was a detail that had surprised him, but explained a lot... The American was Chris Vineyard, Sharon Vineyard's daughter, one of the two actresses his father, Touichi Kuroba, had taught the art of disguising oneself... Yukiko Kudo being the other one.

There was nothing else to it, it was personal now. Kaitou Kid was going to have to put his quest for Pandora to the side for a time... The time it would take to pull apart piece by piece a criminal organisation of the worst kind.

* * *

A week had gone by since my disconcerting discovery. After a so many days spent crying in my room, thinking over the thousand and one questions my realisation had raised and ruminating the past, I radically needed a change of air. The silence in the family apartment was stifling, my parents unable to understand my grief and working to many hours to be able to offer any support. My secondary school friends were all too focused on romance gossip to not remind me of my sorrow and Professor Agasa's home would only make me nostalgic of simpler times...

There wasn't much choice in the end. I ended up going with the first option that came to mind... A meeting with the other two remaining Detective Boys.

Genta, Mitsuhiko and I, we aren't as close as we once were. Sure, we are still good friends, quick to seek out treasures and solve cases straight off the bat, but... We'd each developed our own interests, our own chosen hobbies. If I was keen to chase after Kaitou Kid? They preferred to spend a weekend playing Video Games with their other friends.

They are glad to see me, asking me why I look so pale. I lie, telling them that I am recovering from the cold. They say that it matches up with their deductions when they didn't see me in school. They quickly move on to their next conversation topic, telling me about their weekend in Osaka.

"By the way, did you hear about the murder where the killer shot themselves with a silver bullet?" Genta askes me with a smile. "Do you think they thought they were a killer werewolf?"

Seeing my unamused expression, he tries in vain to save face. "Hey now, it's just a joke, okay? I read the news item it on the internet the other day..."

Ignoring him in favour of his partner, I ask Mitsuhiko a question.  
"Hey? What's with the laptop? It's not yours, is it?"

"Indeed..." He answers. His serious expression makes me question the wisdom of coming to see them. "It's Conan's."

"Huh?" Taken aback, I can't comprehend why Mitsuhiko would have such a thing at his place. We're sat in his sister's room, the one Mitsuhiko uses as a games room while she's studying abroad. I was hoping for a games session with fighting or racing games, not an umpteenth reminder of the event I was hoping to get out of my head just for a moment.

"You probably don't know..." Genta starts to explain, showing an impressive amount of tact considering his reputation. "We didn't want to worry you with it by visiting when you had a cold but... Conan had disappeared."

"Ran and her father asked if we could help look for him. We've spent the past week going door to door with his photo. The last place he was seen is in Haido, but... The police can't find him anywhere."

I stare, dumbfounded, as they bought up the computer.

"Mitsuhiko thinks there might be a clue on his laptop... Something that might help find him." Genta clasps my shoulder hoping to comfort me as he sees the tears in my eyes. "Ran's given us her permission."

It's true, now that I recall, that Ran hadn't seen Conan enter the art gallery... Her back had been facing him as we spoke about him.

"Let's see about his password..." Mitsuhiko mutters once the operating system is booted up.

An hour, the two flies by. We manage to bypass his password using some technical machinations I could never replicate. The rest of the afternoon we spend examining its contents, his favourites, his browser history... Most of the hard drive is full of information on various crime cases, mysteries and novels by Arthur Conan Doyle. A small portion contains the video games Genta and Mitsuhiko got him to try out. We also found a couple of files containing photos that make me blush. I never would have imagined him so fascinated with the adult female form when he seemed so mature... At least, before I learnt of his secret.

It's nearly dinner time when, finally, we stumble across something promising. It's a simple folder labelled "4869." Access is restricted by a box asking for a password, the only hint being "trial detective." We glance at each other, hesitant to say out loud what we're thinking...

"He didn't...?"

"No way!"

At our outbursts, Mitsuhiko clearly types out our common thought using fingers that fly across the keyboard far too quickly.

"Sher... lock Holmes..."

"Error. Wrong Password."

"Darn. It was too obvious..." Genta curses our naïve hope.

"Hang on," I say, once a detective, always a detective. "Mitsuhiko, go check the foreword to his e-book on the creation of Sherlock Holmes..."

Understanding my thinking, he obeys. He quickly finds what I expected there.

"Sherring... Ford? You sure, Ayumi?"

"Give it a try..." I reply.

He gives it a try. It works. Our eyes go wide. The folder contains several others with strange names... Gin, Pisco, Tequila... Alcohol names everywhere. The exceptions are labelled CIA, FBI, Akemi Miyano and...

"Haibara?" I... I burst into tears realising the nature of the file we had found. Genta and Mitsuhiko don't even notice, so befuddled they are by what they see.

"A video?" Mitsuhiko, having opened the file named after our ex-classmate, clicks on it. "It's... The Belltree Express?!"

"Go back..." Says Genta. "There's a text file..."

A text file labelled Testament. A testament that explained everything in full detail...

"To whoever finds this file:  
My name is Shinichi Kudo, but since my seventeenth birthday, I've had to adopt a new identity, that of Conan Edogawa..."

* * *

 **END.**

Author/Translator note:  
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought!  
Extra thanks to the CoAi Discord Server that reminded me of this fic, and that it wasn't in English yet.  
The original was written very swiftly after the Mystery Train files came out, as a "What if?" scenario that quickly got out of hand.  
I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
